


Preventative Measures

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: my harry potter crackfics & unfinished tales [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Harry Potter, Do-Over, Gen, Not Beta Read, Paranoid Harry Potter, The Veil, Time Travel, Unfinished, We Die Like Men, Weasleycest (brief), but not evil, just.... powerful and dark and paranoid as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25071553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: Things in the future got so fucked up. After the mess with Ginny Weasley and the diary, the girl housed a shade of Voldemort's soul. And thus, ended up helping bring him back, start another war, and a bunch of other shit. - This isn't that story. This is the story of what happened to the good guys and heroes after the villains executed them by throwing them into the veil.(Unfinished. Hopefully, one day, will be completed.)
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Series: my harry potter crackfics & unfinished tales [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1149425
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	Preventative Measures

**Author's Note:**

> cleaning out old files and such. another idea that i might eventually come back around to. where this story is going (generally) is included in the end notes.

She was the first to arrive.

Arrive where? How?

She didn't know.

Nobody did.

Work on the Veil during her administration had been... inconclusive.

Given the available evidence, however, she could be certain that one of two possiblities were true.

She was dead and this is hell because she certainly never pictured Heaven as her third year at Hogwarts.

Or it was time travel, though that was ridiculous because she understood time travel. Time travel was damn near impossible and the only device capable of achieving it was hanging from her neck right at this moment on what was a repeat of her first day of third year classes.

Minister Granger-Braddock found it rather... difficult to keep her head down and pretend to be a normal 13 year old - well, 14 yaer old now that she'd just lived her birthday two days in a row. She had to be careful. If she were dead then any deviation from events would be inconsequential. But if she had, in fact, somehow time traveled and regressed in her body then, well, any deviation would be monumental and disastrous.

You simply do NOT meddle with time!

She had been leaning heavily towards the she was dead and this was her own personal Hell explanation for a while now. Until Halloween. Halloween when she noticed Malfoy was acting... oddly.

Though a definitive answer wouldn't appear until a week later when a first year Slytherin girl and Malfoy managed to corner her on the weekend.

"Minister."

"I'm sorry?"

"You never wore your hair like that until sixth year, madame Minister."

"Spymaster Malfoy," she said, then turned her attention to the first year. "Lady Malfoy."

"What the hell is going on here, Hermione?"

"I don't know. I thought I was just in some weird kind of purgatory. The last thing I remember I was-"

"Shoved through the veil," Malfoy said. His wife nodding beside him. "But if we're all here..."

"We'll wait and see if someone else comes through... I was first in the Veil, so my arrival first makes sense. Who came before you, Draco?"

"Hugo."

"They... they got Hugo, too?"

Draco nodded. "If we've traveled in time to our younger bodies..."

"Then Hugo's gone. And unless we stick to the established chain of events for the next four years, he'll never exist." Hermione felt a pang of loss in her heart. Her son, the only of her children to have survived to adulthood was gone. Possibly to never exist. She'd been able to take her licks in her Azkaban cell, and hold her head high as she was marched to the death chamber, the first of the many executions the Dark Lady would perform.

She had been able to do all of that because she knew her son was still alive. Still out there fighting. But now...

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

"No. But I will be, Astoria," she said thenp turned her attention to more important matters. "Have you spotted anyone else from our time?"

"No."

"Keep an eye on Harry. You know whatever is happening, he's going to be involved somehow. I have no doubt that he will eventually turn up. And when he does, I pray it's not the mess that happens at the end of the school year."

"It was werewolves this year, wasn't it?" Astoria asked.

Draco nodded. Hermione paled.

"This was the year Harry learned it was Pettigrew that betrayed his parents, not Sirius..."

And so, the three plotted and planned. They couldn't meet up regularly, especially after Hermione told the two Slytherins about a certain map that, at this time, was still in the posession of the twin terrors Fred and George Weasley, then later would go to Harry.

In November, Hermione noticed Neville Longbottom frowning at breakfast.

He occasionally would reach up and touch his cheek - always the one that should be smooth from the burns he received in the Battle of Hogwarts, or run a hand through his hair in confusion before glancing around. He caught Hermione's eye and frowned when he realized she was staring at him curiously.

After classes had ended for the morning, she followed him to the great hall, where, in the corridor, Draco had given her a subtle nod before having Crabbe and Goyle push the boy against the wall, causing him to drop his books. Hermione could tell Neville was trying really hard not to lash out, probably believing Draco to be just another regular child and not wanting to maim the unfortunate prick. Yet.

"Here, let me help you with that," Hermione offered, ignoring his protests and moving in closer. Closer where no one would hear her. "You're not alone, Professor."

"Minister?"

"And the Malfoys, too."

"Hunter?" he had asked quietly as the pair of them stood. Louder, seeing her friends drawing closer, Hermione shook her head and hid her saddened expression. "You really should be more careful, Neville. Here, why don't you sit with us for lunch. I'm sure Ron and Harry would need some help with their herbology work, and I can help you with Charms if you like."

Astoria was their go between. Being a first year, it made sense. First years had yet to really know the social rules of Hogwarts and were free to aproach older students of other houses for help with school work. Traditionally, Slytherin first years only aproached Ravenclaws, but it was well known that Hermione Granger of Gryffindor would never turn away a firstie, and was better than most Ravenclaws in her year.

Astoria had no problems seeking out "the best" if it would get her ahead.

"Daphne arrived last night," she had said quietly as Hermione was supposedly helping her with her Transfiguration homework. "A house elf popped in and threw itself at her feet, thanking her for coming to help them."

"What? I hope no one saw."

"She was actually talking with Draco about homework funny enough. No one else saw. But now she's got house elves jumping at the chance to serve the Great Headmistress. I think... I think the castle knows what's going on."

"God I hope so," Hermione whispered as Snape came billowing past, stopping to watch Hermione with one of his snakes. The know-it-all had some redeeming uses at least.

"With her here," Astoria said once Snape had passed. "It will make a lot of things easier to hide and cover up. We told her about you and the Professor. She says the castle knows who she is, and she's ordered it and the elves to hide the fact from Albus."

"Good."

"Any news on Potter?"

Hermione shook her head, then a bit louder said, "With this transfiguration, it's all in the wrist movement. See, with charms, you have to make sure you get the incantation absolutely perfect, but in time and with much practice you can ease up on the exactness of the wand movement. With transfiguration, however, you have to be very precise with both the incantation and the movements."

Astoria glanced over to Snape, who seemed to be watching them very closely. "Can you give an example for this, Granger?" she said snootily.

Hermione smiled. "Of course, here, see this quill?..."

Boggarts.

They'd forgotten about the Boggart that professor Lupin had them face this year.

The accidental time travelers made sure they were nowhere near the front of the class, vying for their chance to have a go. Hermione made sure that she, Neville, Draco, and Daphne were in line behind Harry. With Daphne first behind him since they all knew her boggart wasn't as... horrifying as the rest of them.

Once again, however, the class was called to a sudden and abrupt end when Harry's boggart turned into a dementor.

They wouldn't be back in class until after the holiday. And that, at least, gave them time to come up with a plan for how to get around the dementor problem.

Neville was the first to learn about George.

George who'd been sitting in the common room with his brother, the pair of them whispering over something or other while Harry moped about the grounds somewhere, Astoria trailing behind him on occasion. Hermione was with Ron in Hogsmede. So Neville decided it was a time for light reading in the common room.

And then George had burst into tears and grabbed his brother.

Neville was thankful he was the only one in the common room with them at the time.

A quick stunner to Fred had George whirling around with his wand out, ready to have a go at whoever it was that had taken out his brother.

"You're lucky it was me in here and not everyone else you bloody git," Neville had said. "Now put the wand down before I have to explain to the Minister why her weaponsmith is tied up in the greenhouses. Again."

From George they'd learned a lot. When he could sneak away from Fred that is.

Batches of prisoners were taken from Azkaban at a time. The executions had gone on for three months by this point, from when he had come from. After being told who, exactly, had arrived into the past, his eyes had hardened. "Ron won't be joining us then..."

"What? Why not?"

"He... He was a few people ahead of me. He was hit with a disembowler before being thrown in, still barely alive."

"That's... that's horrid," came from Astoria.

"He... He's not here already, which means he's not coming at all."

"So far, it's only people who were old enough to suvive the Battle of Hogwarts. I don't understand why us, specifically but..."

"Any news on Potter?"

George sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Last I saw him... Merlin... Tough old bastard. They'd taken his legs and paraded him around through the halls of Azkaban on his stumps. And he still managed to snake in and take a chunk out of LeStrange."

"Really?"

"Bit his dick clean off. Right through the dragonhide, too." George was almost wistful as he recalled it. "Was about a month or so back I think."

Draco shuddered at the news. He'd been in the cell across from Potter in the High Security level. The entire time they'd been locked up down there together, he never heard Potter scream. Never heard him shout or yell or raise his voice in any way. The guards often taunted him. Goaded him. He gave as good as he got. They'd stopped going in to torture him because it wasn't any use. Potter wouldn't break. He'd scrap and he'd fight and once took off his own fake leg and beat a man to death with it before putting it back on, commenting that the blood had done a good job oiling the joints, and went back to sitting on the floor with a grunt and a groan of old age.

"That's disgusting," Hermione said.

George had shrugged. "If they didn't want to start neutering the purebloods, they shouldn't have cut the Hunter down to waist height."

No one else came after George.

George who had to be careful around Fred.

George who, eventually, had to tell Fred because Fred had followed him to a clandestine meeting in the Room of Requirement.

George who, much to the astonishment of everyone else, took Fred by the sides of the head and laid one big, messy kiss right on his mouth. "You already died once. I'm NOT letting that happen again, you hear me, Gred."

"That's.... that's more about those two than I ever wanted to know," Neville said.

"I think I threw up in my mouth a little..." Draco added, more as a tease than as an actual admonishment.

"But.... but you said mum would..."

"I did. And it's one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Right after not being by your side when that wall came crashing down on you."

Hermione takes care of the Ravenclaw diadem horcrux with Neville in March.

It's one down and plenty more to go.

The time travelers had a bet on when their Harry would arrive.

Hermione abstained, as she was the most experienced in the Potter Luck and how it worked, so it would have been easy money for her.

Though she did tell Astoria her best guess, and the girl offered to split the pot with her.

Hermione, and by extension Astoria, were proven right on the night the three Gryffindors confronted Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew in the shrieking shack.

The night did NOT go as it should have. And she recognized that the moment The Hunter had arrived. Rather than simply fling Severus Snape across the room, the overpowered expelliarmus sent him through the wall. And immediately after, chaos reigned. Stunners were flung around like he were Voldemort giving out cruciatis candies. Ron started screaming his head off, causing Harry to swing around on him with Hermione's wand and nearly take the fool boy's head clean off.

"Stand down Hunter Potter!" Hermione bellowed as best as her 14 year old throat would allow.

And he did, after stunning Ron, getting Pettigrew as well with it, and turning the wand on Hermione. He said nothing, but she could see the hateful, angry, rage filled gleam in his eyes. He would not hesitate to slit her throat if he didn't like where this was going.

"You are the best damn Auror Hunter we had," she said, licking her lips with both hands up. "Draco said last he saw you, you'd just bludgened a man to death with your own leg."

The grip on the wand tightened.

"George said last he saw you, they'd taken your legs and had you up and down the halls of Azkaban on your stumps. Give me the wand, Hunter Potter. Go back to the castle and I'll sort this out."

Finally, he spoke. "What's happening? Where am I?"

"I don't know, but let me send a patronus to Neville. He's waiting for us at the tower. He'll get in touch with the others."

"How many?"

"Not a lot."

"I was last. They made me watch."

"There will be time for dealing with your head later. But right now, you need to go. I'll fix things here."

"Get Sirius to safety."

"I will. I've already got a portkey out of here for a safe location I scouted during winter break. It already has OUR Fidellus on it."

Harry was hesitant to give up the wand, but nodded and handed it over only after Hermione accioed both Harry and Ron's wands to her. They made the trade and Hermione shot off a patronus to Neville, and another to Astoria. She'd get the message out to Draco and Daphne easy enough.

"What did you do?" Harry hissed at her from the shadows.

"I made them believe tonight went as it should. Though, minus you fighting the dementors and outing your patronus for the world to see. Didn't think you'd appreciate anyone seeing what it looks like now."

"You let Pettigrew go you mean..."

"Yes."

"Give me one good reason why i shouldn't AK you right where you stand."

"Because I'm one, your boss, and two your best friend. Now come on. Neville and George are waiting up for us and we need to get this sorted out before morning."

The four time travelers talked, mostly getting Harry's story out of him until, finally, they reached the heart of a very specific matter.

"The horcruxes. We've taken out the diadem since it was already here. We can't get to the necklace yet, but I have a plan for that," Hermione had said. "The cup isn't in Gringotts yet, so if we save that one for last then we'll have a better chance of getting rid of him."

"What about the man himself? You fucking let Pettigrew go, Hermione."

"I did. Because you can't kill a fucking ghost, Harry. He needs a body otherwise he can hop from body to body. Just like he did before."

"I've got to kill Ginny, too."

"Leave Ginny to me," said George. "I've got best access and no known motive. Can make it look like an accident, too. If all else fails... Well... Hogwarts is a dangerous place and all..."

"Damn shame Ron didn't make it. We'll have to distance from him. I can't go through losing him again."

Plans were made. Secret messages sent back and forth.

And Sirius Black was imprisoned in Grimmauld Place, kept there by a very over eager house elf named Dobby. Kreacher, well... Kreacher's head was mounted next to his predecessors before Sirius was ever taken back to his family home.

The summer was... well...

Mostly uneventful.

Harry knew this summer was the only time he could sneak out and get things done without anyone noticing. He could take care of another 3 horcruxes and secure a third if he could figure out where the cup was currently hidden.

He didn't want to admit that Hermione was right, but... At the same time, he knew she was. He couldn't kill a ghost. He couldn't kill a shade. Not so long as Ginny Weasley lived. And she had to die. Voldemort had to get a body. And then, then he could end this before it could get any worse.

But first thing was first...

Harry sat on his bed at Privet Drive. Dobby had already brought him a progress report on Sirius. Astoria had snuck out with her sister, the pair using polyjuice and glamours to act as his Care Management Team. Hermione's experience with the Ministry and cleaning up its corruption - at least for her administration - was useful. She was able to expertly recreate any documentation they may need. Harry had to get out of Privet Drive. He had to go on the hunt now, while he had the time and while Sirius Black was in total lockdown for his own good and getting his head on straight.

Harry tossed his wand from one hand to the other. It hadn't been much to disguise it from his relatives as a mere muggle #2 pencil. While it still had the trace on it he couldn't use it. Not that he really needed to. He could pull off some wandless when he was angry or desperate enough. Simple illusions were easy enough. Case in point, the wand and the sleeping boy in the bed behind him.

Or rather, the illusion of the sleeping boy in the bed behind him.

He'd been allowed to let Hedwig out for the night, under the impression that she'd be back before daylight so no one would notice her.

He just had to wait a little longer before he could make his move.

He'd had an empty trunk from the room of requirement that Dobby had provided for him to leave behind. It was loaded down with rocks and sealed rather impressively. It was made to look identical to his school trunk. The real one was hidden with Hermione for now while everything else that he needed for his self-imposed quest was held in rucksack on his back. The threat of the maniac murderer they'd seen on the news the summer before was enough to keep the Dursleys from bothering him too awful much, so his disappearance wouldn't be noticed for some time at least.

Harry snuck out in the middle of the night, getting a fair distance away from Privet Drive before apparating with a crack to a couple of destinations, criss-crossing his own tracks a few times just for good measure. You didn't get to live as long as he did through two wars without a bit of paranoia. It was one of the few things he and Moody could agree on, had Moody lived.

Eventually, Harry ended up at Number 13 Grimmauld Place with a grin. An otherwise ordinary muggle home. And indeed, inside it was as muggle as they come. With a few... enhancements.

This would be his base. Right next to Sirius where no one would ever suspect to find him. Not with their special Fidellus over the place and buffeted as it was right against the one that hid Sirius Black.

The Ring was first. It was also the most dangerous at this time since it was so close to Voldemort's current location in Riddle Manor.

Harry was a thief in the night as he took it, leaving behind a replica.

The one in himself was easy enough. He just stirred up trouble with a few known death eaters and had one throw the Avada Kadavra in his face. If there was one thing Harry hated in the later years of the new war it was that the AK only knocked him out. Sometimes longer than others depending on how pissed off the person slinging it at him was. When he woke up in a shallow grave hours later, he was blessedly horcrux free.

Did he know for a fact this was going to work?

Nope.

Did the war beaten Harry Potter, most paranoid ex-auror since Mad-Eye Moody himself give two farts to the wind about it?

Not particularly.

Was he glad it worked?

Depends on the mood of the day, really. Mostly, he was just glad to have two legs, two eyes, most of his organs, and his whole face again.

"Two down..."

Astoria and Daphne stopped in for a chat with Harry when they were through with another session at Number 12.

"He's doing better," Astoria had said. "At least, compared to what he was like in the beginning."

"Yeah?"

"Hermione says it might be safe for you to visit him soon."

Harry had grunted from behind his mug of tea.

"It'll be good for you, too, Potter."

"Doubt it," he'd said, throwing a bit of chicken to the floor for the dog he'd bought to keep him company. "Hey, do me a favor. When you show up next door for his session this Thursday, ask the house elf to bring you something. Looks like this." He transfigured a napkin ring into a replica of the Slytherin Locket. "Just make sure you don't put it on."

"Is that one of the... the things?"

"Horcruxes. Yeah. This one's especially nasty. But I'm going to need it to find the Cup."

"Why?"

"They were a set. I can use the one to call for the other. I'm going to use it as a sort of horcrux detector when I break into LeStrange manor before the term starts."

They got him the locket, and Astoria promptly vomited after she'd handled it.

Harry had tossed it on the counter like it was nothing. Bare handed and all. "Thanks gals."

"Go see your godfather, Harry."

"Not yet. I've got... I've got a plan I'm working on."

"Potter-"

"Trust me. The less you guys know the better."

"He's worse than goddamn Alastor Moody," Daphne said.

Harry sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I can't tell you anything until I've got the cup. After that, you can ask Hermione for details. It's a solid plan, but I cannot see Sirius until after I do what I need to do. It's not safe for him, and it's not safe for the rest of you."

He had used the locket.

He'd used a spell on the locket that he'd learned not long before they'd been caught.

In fact, it might have been the reason they were caught.

It was neither here nor there. What mattered was that Harry had a horcrux, was pissing it off, soaked it a potion made of salamander entrails, bat wings, and unicorn blood. After adding his own blood, to attune the locket to himself despite the horcrux, he cast the rather dark and vile locator spell and followed the pull.

The locket would attempt to drag him in a direction, and so he'd done line of sight apparition for the most part. Until he found himself standing outside a pub in Hollyhead. "Huh. That was... unexpected."

Hermione had come to see him immediately after what the Prophet was calling the Headless Harpy Massacare.

She threw the newspaper in his face, shouting at him and calling him every name she could think of.

"Do you have any idea what-"

"I got the fucking job done, didn't I?!" Harry snarled back at her. Before she could open her mouth, a hunk of slag was thrown on the table between them. "The cup is gone. All that's left is the locket, possibly the snake, and the bastard himself!"

"You killed innocent-"

"Actually, if you'd read the whole fucking article, Hermione, you'll see the few innocents in that pub were left alive!"

"Daph and Astoria think you're losing your goddamn mind, Harry!"

He scoffed. "Oh? Now? Now I'm losing my mind? Not when my fiance tried to neuter me in my sleep? Not when I spent two years rotting in a fucking cell, surrounded by dementors, with half my fucking face carved out and my legs lopped off at the knees? Not when I had to blast a hole through some little muggle girl's chest because Voldemort's goddamn daughter used her as a fucking dragon egg incubator?! No, it must be since coming back here and trying to do everything I can to stop the wars to come from even happening. That must be it! Couldn't possibly be year after year after year fighting for my life since I was eleven goddamn years old!"

The bulbs in the celing lights burst.

He could hear the fridge stop running.

"Great. I've put the whole damn street out. Again."

Since Harry didn't have much else to do for the rest of the summer, he decided to explore England a bit. Then Wales. Then Ireland. He avoided Scotland like the plague though.

And if... The Carrow House was somehow mysteriously burned to the ground then... well...

Accidents happen. Especially when you rely on such old-fashioned and outdated things such as lanterns. Torches. Candles.

Harry made s'mores that evening as he sat in a muggle folding lawn chair under his invisibility cloak.

During his summer hunts, Harry was sure not to use his usual wand. Usually he just used whatever wand he stole from whomever he was dealing with at the time.

But days before he was due to join the others on the train for the new school term, he strolled into Knocturn Alley, bold as brass and not even bothering to hide his face. To pick up a wand he'd had comissioned.

Having been an auror, he knew the right seedy places. He knew which ones to pay to keep their traps shut.

And he knew which ones would do what he'd asked so long as he had the money for it. And after the raid on the LeStrange place, he had plenty and more to share around.

He'd provided the ingredients himself, after all.

"Fifteen inches," the wandmaker had said. "Elder.... thunderbird and thestral, just as you asked."

"And?"

"And no trace. Just like we agreed."

Harry threw some galleons on the counter. More than enough for the custom wand. "I'll be needing two holsters. Hungarian Horntail if you've got it. Norwegian Ridgeback if you don't."

"Horntail. Courtesty of the house."

Harry smiled, and it was a horrid thing on that young face. "Thank you," he said simply. "You'll find your wife and daughter in a little house, very muggle and very normal, in Little Whinging. That's in Surrey. They're in house number 6 on Privet Drive. I suggest donning a glamour and leaving London permanently."

"And my son?"

"What son?" Harry said simply. "Mrs. Carson has no son. Only a daughter."

"You son of a-"

Harry didn't care. He got what he wanted. The wand. The holsters. And now he could even keep his galleons.

When he passed by Gregorovich's shop, under a glamor of course, later he informed the man that the "Competition" in the alley had been neutralized. One less place for Death Eaters to get their wands. And two less unmarked Voldemort supporters around, just in case he couldn't pull this off in time.

Sirius Black read about a terrible fire in Knocturn Alley while having dinner with his godson who had finally come to see him a few days before leaving back for Hogwarts.

"You look good, Sirius," Harry had said - and meant it.

12 Grimmauld was looking far better, too, with Dobby cleaning things up in the gloomy old house.

The portrait of Sirus's mother, however, had yet to be removed. Not even Dobby could get it unstuck.

Though she yelled at Sirius when given the chance.

The first night Harry spent in Number 12, she had opened her mouth to screech at him before she got a good look at him. After she did, she'd stopped. "My apologies, Mr. Potter," Walburga had said after a long hard stare at him. "I seem to have forgotten my manners."

"See that you remember them next time, yeah," the 14 year old looking old man said. "After all, Sirius is still trying to get over being locked up in Azkaban for 12 years without a trial. Last thing he needs is having his dead mother screaming at him for being a disappointment. Don't you think he already tells himself that every day after his brother was killed? After my parents were killed? His fiance, too?"

The door of his compartment slammed open.

And there stood Hermione Granger in all her frizzy haired glory.

"You and I need to have a talk. NOW."

"Of course. Have a seat." He checked his watch. "We have about 3 hours before the Weasleys show up. That gives us plenty of time."

The first hour was spent getting a lecture from Hermione about everything she could possibly think of. The second hour was spent with him telling her to shove it.

The third hour though, was when Draco appeared. "I can't stay long. People will of course talk, but I'll be by later for my annual Piss off Potter taunt. In the meantime, Astoria and I have been talking. Here's what we've come up with." He offered Hermione a roll of parchment. "Daphne's put her two cents in, but you know her. It's always about the students and the kids." He glanced up the corridor. "Shit. Here comes Parkinson. I'll have Astoria get in touch in a few days," he said, slipping away.

Hermione closed the compartment, passwording it before she sat down and unrolled the paper. And then, she was moving to sit beside Harry to show him what Draco had given them. "It's... It's..."

"It's perfect."

"Harry you can't possibly-"

"No. It's perfect. It gives me the best alibi. Pulling it off to start with will be a bitch since we don't know what Moody's eye is capable of, or if Crouch can actually use the damn thing properly. It'll be the perfect cover for what I was already planning."

"You mean that thing Astoria and Daphne keep pestering me about but you won't say a damn word?"

"Exactly. Look, we both know if I have to go through Hogwarts again as a student, I'm going to go mad."

"Like you aren't already..."

"Yes, I remember that argument rather well, too. The power was out for eight hours this time. I had to buy more milk and my ice creams melted. But still... the dwarves have these potions, you see... Age you up a year at a time. If we modify this here..." he said, pulling out a muggle pen and giving it a click before scribbling on the parchment.

"We still need to show this to Neville..."

"Yeah. But think about it. Crazy things always happen to me no matter what. And with the tournament this year, I can keep their attention focused on me while you and the others work behind the scenes to tear the world apart."

"You really want to burn it all down and start fresh?"

"It's the only way and you know it. This country's a breeding ground for dictators. Clearing out the death eaters and Voldemort isn't enough. The next one could be a light wizard, going hard on the anti-dark angle like Dumbledore. Hell, we play our cards right the next one will probably BE Dumbledore. Especially when his plans for me fall flat on their arse come Halloween."

"One of the main problems here is going to be funding..." Hermione said. "The Malfoy assets are tied up until Lucius dies. Neville can't get access until he's 17... And we both know what yours are like right now with Dumbledore and those damn goblins in charge. And then there's Sirus... your fortune's cut in half with him still alive."

"Well, we've got a year to think about it. On the upside, we'll have 1000 galleons to start with when I off Voldemort and win the tournament."

"There is that..."

They showed the plan to Neville before Ron and Ginny found them.

Hermione cast a sleeping spell on Harry so he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Hermione and Neville were better able to pretend Ginny didn't still have that old echo of Tom Riddle lodged in her soul.

"I thought you were going to handle it!" Harry had hissed to George as they passed one another in the hall, on their way to classes.

"Mum," was all George would say. And yes, that was more than enough explanation as far as Harry was concerned.

Between the two of them, Draco and Harry had figured out what he needed to do to pull off the Time Traveler Harry Slight-Hoax.

The fact he was a time traveler wasn't exactly a lie. Just... they had to wait until after the wand weighing but before the first task to reveal it. And as it turned out, Moody's eye could see through glamors. And yes, Barty Jr. had no problems using it.

"So here's what we'll do... two days after the wand weighing you'll take some of Fred and George's experimental stuff. That'll put you out of comission for about a week. You take one of the dwarf potions every other day until you're say... eighteen? That will put you at legal age in the muggle world, too. So the old bastard can't do anything about you from that angle either with your relatives."

Harry pointed out the flaw in the plan. "If I miss a week's worth of classes without going to Pomfrey..."

"Let me and Astoria handle that. Trust us, you'll be fine. Now. Pay attention, Potter. You can't enter with your old wand, but the headmaster will be concerned that you've got a new one and where you might have gotten it."

"I've got it covered. He doesn't have Sirius this time, so I'll just say my uncle snapped the first one and this one was a gift from an old friend of my parents. He'll get who I mean right away."

Draco had nodded, and then plowed on ahead. "Alright, so... here's another thing. No glamours. So once you use the settling agent to make the age changes permanent, you need to start downing the polymorph potion. Once a day before bed. It lasts for 26 hours, giving you 2 extra hours of overlap time so you don't risk changing back."

"Why the polymorph? The Polyjuice works better, and is less taxing on the body. In case you haven't noticed, I quite like having everything in the right place again."

"Because once you've been on it for three weeks Neville's going to cause a cauldron explosion and splash you with a potion base that contains the one ingredtient that will cause a sudden potion purge and flush your system. Then you can tell everyone you're a time traveler from the future who's come back to save Cedric and stop the war from starting. You'll already be entered and have gone through the wand weighing. You have to compete because of the contract with the goblet."

Harry nodded. It made sense, and still gave him room to improvise where he likely would need to. "Good..." he said. "Now, about funding. I've been giving it some thought and... do you remember the Room of Requirement?..."

Dobby was a great help in emptying the Room of Requirement's storage room. And the numerous trunks Harry had gathered together to hide in Number 13 Grimmauld Place were perfect for storing everything until they could get around to sorting, dealing with, or reselling anything.

It kept him busy when he wasn't working with or for Sirius.

Harry continued to receive letters from his godfather on the sly after his short visit with him. And Harry of course sent some back, when he could remember.

Sure enough....

October 30th, the arrival of the Durmstrang and Beubatons students.

And sure enough, on the 31st, Harry Potter's name came out of the goblet last.

And once again... Harry had to deal with the whispers. The stares. The accusations of cheat.

Though this time when asked if he somehow had someone else put his name in, he shrugged. "To be honest headmaster, I did."

Because he honestly had. He knew Barty Crouch Jr. would put his name in, but figured having someone else do it for him, too, wouldn't hurt. And then, of course, he'd obliviated the boy afterwards. He was paranoid, not stupid.

"Why?"

"Do you really need to ask that? I've had someone try to kill me since the day I was born. If I didn't put my name in somehow, I know for a fact someone else would have done it. At least this time, I'm volunteering to let someone try to kill me."

And with a shrug, Harry explained how he did it since it was too late to undo it anyway. "I just put my name in under a fourth school."

"But how? The Goblet would know-"

"Oh, my relatives have me dually enrolled here and at St. Brutus's School for Incurably Criminal Boys. I'm surprised it worked to be honest. St. Brutus's is a muggle school so I didn't think the Goblet would accept it." That was only partially true, but Harry wouldn't tell them that. He wouldn't tell them that he'd sort of imperiused one of Dudley's gang since returning and enrolling him as Harry at St. Brutus's over the summer.

When Harry retold how he'd done it to the Twins, Hermione, and Neville later, they were rather impressed with Harry's forethought. At least, until he told them, "Actually, I just really fucking hate Dudley's friends. It was just luck that I came across Piers Polkiss when I did. If the dementors repeat, then I think I'll offer up a couple more from the gang before bothering to stop it. If at all."

"Oh honestly, Harry..." was Hermione's reply to that.

Harry was never so grateful to be pulled out of such a boring class in his life. He didn't actually have to pretend to be terrible at potions. He wasn't great at it, but he'd managed to catch up on the subject during Auror training with Draco's assistance. But now? In 1994? He didn't even bother to try in class. Even if he had, Snape still had it out for him. So he played the apropriate part in class, but that's about all he did.

The same could be said for Neville.

But... that was neither here nor there. For Colin Creevy was sent to fetch him from Potions class for the Weighing of the Wands. And Harry couldn't wait to see their faces when he whipped out his new wand.

When he arrived, he sneered at Rita Skeeter like a proper pureblood when Dumbledore wasn't looking. But as soon as the man turned his attention to Harry, he was the perfect ignorant 14 year old child again.

Viktor went first. Followed by Fleur who, since his inclusion in the tournament, had been a bit frosty but... also watched him like a hawk, slightly annoyed when her allure didn't work on him.

Cedric's wand was highly polished, which caused Harry to snigger before whipping his own out and handing it over.

Much to the shock of Dumbledore and the disappointment of Ollivander.

"Fifteen inches. Unyielding... Elder," Ollivander said as he further inspected the core. "Thunderbird feather. Highly unusual.... highly unusual..." and then, he frowned. "A dual core. Thestral hair."

Dumbledore's shock turned to suspicion then, and Harry could pinpoint the moment the twinkle in the man's eyes died.

"My uncle snapped my holly wand it in a fit of rage over the summer, I'm afraid," he'd said, then as an aside loud enough he knew Skeeter would pick up on it. "Not surprising really, since he's one step away from joining that magic hating muggle cult. Him and my aunt both."

"I'm not familiar with the maker of the wand, Mr. Potter..."

"I don't know who made it. This one was a gift from an old family friend. Boy was he howling mad when he found out what my uncle Vernon did." Harry made sure to put extra emphasis on the word 'howling' when he said it, then shrugged. "Just as well. I think I'd outgrown my old wand anyway. Plus, why would I want a wand with the brother core to Lord Voldemort? Suppose I ever have to duel with someone who snatched his wand up? Brother wands can't fight each other. At least, that's what Hermione said second year when we were talking about wands. See, Ron's wand broke and-"

Rita's eyes went wide, her lips parting in a silent O as if she'd just had the best damn orgasm of her life. And then, she smiled as Dumbledore suddenly interrupted Harry's diatribe.

"I think that's quite enough, Harry."

"Oh... sorry, Professor," he said, acting once again the poor, innocent boy who really shouldn't even be there.

The moment the official part of things was through, Rita snatched Harry by the arm and pulled him aside for an interview.

THIS was what he'd been waiting for. THIS was the real reason he was looking forward to the wand weighing. Once they were behind the closed door of the closet, he grinned maliciously and used his wand to very clearly put overpowered privacy charms on the small space. "I know you're an animagus, and I know exactly why you're here. But I have a counter offer..." he said, pulling a shrunken stack of papers from his pocket and enlarging them. "Skim through this and if you're interrested, you'll get a chapter every two weeks to publish in a special edition of the Prophet. Provided you don't make a fool of me by writing a bunch of lies with your damn Quick Quotes Quill."

She took the papers and did indeed skim through them. After the first few pages, she realized exactly what the thing was about. "This.... this will make my career."

"And there's plenty more where that came from, as long as you're willing to paint me in a good light through this tournament. Things are going to come out that are going to be hard to swallow for quite a lot of people, especially in the Ministry and Wizengmont. When you've finished with that lot, I've got an expose on the Dark Lord as well. Going all the way back to his years as a child in a muggle orphanage and his Hogwarts years."

Harry had never imagined he'd see Rita Skeeter's eye sparkle like Albus Dumbledore's.

But there was a first time for everything.

"Now about your old wand..." she said with a sly smile, taking out a regular quill and snatching the parchment from her Quick Quotes.

Harry missed the first chapter of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore being published on Sunday in a special edition of the Prophet put out mid-day.

But Hermione didn't.

Draco put on quite a show after reading it, and Neville tried so hard not to laugh into his pumpkin juice.

Fred, George, and Daphne spent the next week alternating with the polymorph potion who, exactly, was going to be Harry Potter. Draco would have done it himself, having more experience pretending to be someone else all the time since he had been the spymaster for the resistance. But Snape was paying much closer attention this year than normal.

It wasn't until Neville was contacted by a thunderbird patronus that they faked Harry being sick again to give him an alibi for disappearing for a day.

The twins briefed him on what he'd missed during the week, gave him a copy of the Prophet from Sunday, and handed over the rest of the polymorph potions they had, with George promising to make more when he ran low.

And so, the great Harry Potter Time Traveler Slight-Hoax was ready to go.

Harry got a letter from Sirius the day after he'd come back asking him about the wand and who gave it to him. Apparently he'd read a direct quote about the wand weighing and since he knew HE didn't get the wand for Harry, he wanted to know if it might have been Remus, especially after the "howling mad" comment.

Harry admitted that he'd gone and purchased it himself from a wandmaker highly recommended by the goblins.

This, in the next letter he received, seemed to appease him. For the moment. But he was cautioned about the dangerous and strange combination of wand he had. Harry ignored it. He knew what he was doing. After all, it was the same wandmaker that had made his wand in the future. The same wand, as a matter of fact, that he'd had in the future after the original Elder Wand was snapped and destroyed by the enemy.

He didn't know exactly when it would happen, but boy was Draco right about the purging. THAT was a nightmare.

Though as he lay in the usual bed in the hospital wing, he couldn't help but smile at Snape's face when he threw up all over the man's billowy black robes.

He was still smiling in his sleep when Albus Dumbledore came to see him hours later, a grown adult where he knew a mere child should have been.

And so the Unofficial story, behind closed doors, was that Harry Potter had come to the past, but had overshot it by three years. He'd only meant to go back two years from 1999 and end up in 1997, back to before the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I knew that if I succeeded, I wouldn't be able to go back. I might even prevent myself from existing. But... Hermione said given the alternative... That might have been better."

"Causing yourself to not even exist?"

"Well, would you want to live in a world where Voldemort was the supreme ruler? A world where in just one year he wiped out all the muggles in the UK and set his sights on greater Europe? You weren't there, Professor. Hell, you died in June 1997."

"What did you intend to do when you arrived, Mr. Potter?" McGonogall had asked. "And where is your younger self currently?"

"Well..." and he looked for all the world quite guilty. "I'd intended to join Harry, Ron, and Hermione on what we called the Worst Camping Trip Ever. We were hunting the horcruxes, you see. It was the mission Dumbledore gave me right before he was killed by Snape, who only did it because Draco, despite being ordered to, wouldn't. Draco was a spy, but by refusing to kill the headmaster, it outed him from the ranks. But Snape? Oh he was a right bastard. Tortured the students after he was made headmaster. Sally-Anne Peaks? Dead. Dennis Creevy? Dead. Neville? Merlin... What the LeStranges did to his parents was child's play compared to what Snape did to him."

And so, Harry told his story. He'd even offered up memories, doctored with help from Draco of course to ensure not even Snape or Dumbledore could tell they'd been tampered with.

Harry had slipped in a few that were mostly real. Just... his age was altered to match what he had now. One was where he'd beaten a man to death in his cell across from Draco with his false leg. Craggy, fucked up face and all.

That had made McGonogall quite sick and she'd had to excuse herself from the pensieve.

"Sorry about that..." he'd said, genuinely sorry she had to see that.

As for how he had both legs? A normal face? Both hands and the rest?...

"Where is the younger Mr. Potter?" he'd been asked again.

"I... Well... I think I might have sort of... absorbed him? I'm not really sure. The ritual we used was supposed to send me back, but you know what happens when people are desperate. Hermione and Draco did their best to get as much information as possible before we did it. And... well... the Death Eaters did find us part way though. It's possible some of the runes or words were messed up."

"When exactly did you arrive, Mr. Potter?"

"I woke up in my bed on November 1st like this. A fully grown adult and, surprisingly, all my damn limbs. Was quite a shock to look in the mirror and see I had my entire face, let me tell you."

The Official story for the public was that Harry Potter was still Harry Potter but... due to a potions mishap, had been aged up to adulthood and that a cure to his problem was being developed to correct it.

After receiving a substantial donation for their legal department, the Daily Prophet refused to print a retraction on their Special Editions that were coming out alongside the coverage of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

They would continue to print the stellar investigative journalism of Ms. Rita Skeeter and her indepth biography of the one and only, Albus Dumbledore.

Not everything would be printed though... the last few chapters would be held back to promote the book that was to be published - in hardback edition of course - at a later date.

As Harry was making headlines...

The rest of the travelers through the Veil got together to plot and to plan.

Land was bought up in the muggle world left and right. Land that the muggles saw as useless and land that the magicals didn't even notice. Nearly all of it was in Wales.

Every last one of the Potter properties were re-warded with entirely new ward schemes and spells from the future. House elves without homes and masters were snatched up to staff them as well as all the other properties that were bought under the shell companies that Draco and Astoria had set up behind his father's back.

And then, they managed to get their hands on a rather nice, rather spacious ex-military base.

"This," Hermione had said with a grin one Hogsmede weekend. "This will be perfect for the new government."

Using her secret Headmistress status at the school to access the book listing everyone who had ever or will ever attend Hogwarts, Daphne spent her free time writing letters to muggleborns and half-bloods that had attended Hogwarts in the past, yet left the wizarding world. Her goal?

To start a revolution, of course.

"There's more of you than there are of the assholes in charge right now," was one of her most commonly written statements. "If we all banded together, they can't stop us."

Dobby had brought her sacks of letters after that, all addressed to a post office box in Dublin or Cokeworth.

The first task was... easy actually. For Harry.

After hissing a finite at the bag with the little dragon copies in it, he found that Cedric didn't go first. Fleur did. And Harry didn't go last. Instead, he had the chinese fireball. Cedric had the Horntail.

Harry walked away singed, using a dialect of parseltongue he'd learned from Charlie Weasley during the Delphic War. Oh, he'd asked the dragon to put on a show with him, to make it look harder than it was, but ultimately as long as Harry took the fake egg from the nest, the dragon was happy to oblige.

It wasn't Harry's fault that, later, when the Horntail broke it's chain that Ginny Weasley just happened to be stuck to her seat and couldn't get out of the way of the intense fire that was sent in her direction.

Neville saw an opportunity, and he fucking took it.

After all, they'd never know it was him when dragonfire pretty much destroys anything it hits. His magical signature included.

Harry continued to attend classes as if he were any other student. He was, however, given his own room out of the dorms because of his age after it had been discovered he could go up the girl's staircase. He'd only gone up to console his good friend Hermione after the death of their good friend Ginny Weasley.

Harry didn't actually use the room he was given, and instead set it up so he could monitor it and sleep elsewhere in the castle where no one could find him. Even if they had the Marauder's Map.

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, Harry is keeping all attention on himself during 4th year so that no one notices when a rebel government rises up and establishes dominion in Wales and the mass moving of muggleborn and half-bloods who choose to live among the muggles from the rest of the UK to Wales. At the end of the year, the time travelers will follow harry's lead and take the aging potions to bring themselves up age-wise (plus fred) so that they'll be taken seriously. I mean, who would follow a government of children?
> 
> Daphne gets a bunch of muggleborns and half-bloods to help her set up a new magical school, and they steal the Book from Hogwarts that lists magical children eligible to attend. It's returned after the magic on it has been altered to prevent the book from listing any muggleborns beyond that point.
> 
> Graveyard after the third task - Harry, knowing Voldemort will be there with Peter Pettigrew, prevents Cedric from getting the cup by taking it for himself - he doesn't even offer to share the victory with Cedric. Harry lets himself get beat around a bit, pretending to be an inexperienced 14 year old trapped in an adult body just long enough for Voldy to get his body back. Once that happens, he breaks free and kills Peter but does so in such a way that it's obvious who it is so that Sirius can be cleared of his crimes. Voldemort duels Harry, and Harry gets a hit in, making him bleed, but Voldy escapes with Nagini. Harry uses the cup to return to Hogwarts with the dead body of Peter Pettigrew. Crouch Jr. is still found out and still given the Kiss.
> 
> Sirius is cleared and declared a free man. The Order is re-established, and Sirius, the fool, lets them use 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry takes up residence in #13 again, it being warded to hell and back so only those he trusts can get in.
> 
> Hermione and Co. establish the Magical Republic of Wales, declaring independence from Magical Brittain with Hermione as the first Prime Minister of Magic.
> 
> Astoria poisons Lucius Malfoy as an anniversary gift to Draco. Narcissa Malfoy bails for the continent with her lover once Draco tells her she can either "stay and likely get killed with the rest of the Death Eater sympathizers or flee and never come back to the UK."
> 
> Harry uses the locket to locate Nagini and kills her. He then sends Remus and Sirius matching "Nagini skin cowboy boots" for a laugh.
> 
> Dumbledore is all "oooo HARRY POTTAH IS GOING DAAAARK! OOOO! VOLDEMORT'S INFLUENCE! BAAAAH!" and when Harry is finally confronted he's like "one, voldy had nothing to do with this and 2, damn right i'm a dark wizard. you don't end one war only to fight two more and survive by casting a bloody tickle jinx or a disarming spell you barmy old bastard!"
> 
> Voldemort is killed soon after and his body left in pieces in the atrium of the ministry of magic. the Department of Mysteries recognizes that a prophecy has been fulfilled and removes it from the shelf.
> 
> Harry fucks off to Wales, moves in with Draco and Astoria at Malfoy Manor, and takes up gardening. the new magical government of Wales ends up going to war against magical brittain for indepdendence. they ultimately win it after harry is like "look, i can either kill every fucking one of you OR you can sign the treaty with my best mate Hermione here and i can go back to my rose garden. your choice."
> 
> and that's it. that's the end.


End file.
